


New Year Gig

by emetoandotherthings



Category: Original Work
Genre: Emetophilia, Gen, Graphic Depictions of Illness, Illnesses, M/M, Music, Musicians, Original Character(s), Originally Posted on Tumblr, Sick Character, Sickfic, Vomiting, emeto, emeto fiction, puke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:48:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23365705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emetoandotherthings/pseuds/emetoandotherthings
Summary: Prompt:  Blake gets awfully sick the night before a fairly important gig, but hey, the show must go on, so he convinces the rest of the band to let him play anyway. Bonus points if he has to run offstage halfway through to throw up but is still adamant that he is 'perfectly fine' to performWarning: Includes vomiting
Relationships: Blake/Aiden
Comments: 1
Kudos: 17





	New Year Gig

“Absolutely not!” Jack heard Aiden’s raised voice issuing from the living room; abandoning spooning coffee granules into his mug and headed through to see what was happening. Both Aiden and Blake were on their feet, Aiden had his arms crossed in front of his chest and his face was set in an expression of defiance. 

“What’s going on?” Jack interrupted, looking between his two flatmates and friends, who appeared to be at a stalemate.

“Blake thinks he’s going to play at this Hogmanay gig tonight!” Aiden explained, sounding exasperated; Jack looked across at Blake.

“Well why shouldn’t he?” Jack asked, scanning Blake but seeing nothing drastically wrong apart from him being a little pale. Blake threw his hands out to show agreement with Jack.

“See?” Blake put his hands on his hips. 

“He’s ill!” Aiden pointed accusingly across at Blake.

“How is he ill?” Jack asked, looking back over at Blake who rolled his eyes.

“He’s got a temperature -“ Aiden started.

“Barely,” Blake chipped in quietly.

“And you should have heard the sounds his stomach was making last night!” Aiden carried on. 

“But nothing’s come of that!” Blake refuted. “Alright my stomach was noisy last night, but I’m fine!” Jack looked between the two of them – it was hard to argue with Aiden who, as a trainee nurse, was rarely wrong. 

“Surely if Blake’s feeling fine then he should be able to play the gig?” Jack said slowly, seeing Aiden scowl and Blake grin. He knew that Blake would hate to pull out of a gig this late, and also – it was Hogmanay! No one wanted to miss that! “And if he doesn’t later on then he can change his mind, right?”

“Yes! That’s what I’ve been saying!” Blake nodded enthusiastically. Aiden stared at him for a few long seconds, then sighed audibly and shrugged:

“Do what you want…”

Anyone else might have heeded Aiden’s opinion, after all he was better informed, but Blake was under the opinion that Aiden was overreacting! He felt fine! His stomach had been feeling a little unsettled, but he’d put that down to a combination of nerves at his band being in charge of a Hogmanay ceilidh, and his dinner, which he’d probably not paid enough attention to while cooking – surely it would have settled down by the time he was due to head to the pub for the sound check. 

Unfortunately it hadn’t. Blake had spent most of the afternoon with his music spread across their living room floor, drawing up the perfect set, and making sure he had all the right music for everyone else, while Aiden sat on the sofa with his arms crossed. In fact, the unsettled and slightly bloated feeling in his belly only seemed to be getting worse, but he wasn’t about to admit that to Aiden. He hoped Aiden wouldn’t still be mad at him this evening; him, Lindsey and Jack were meant to be coming along to bring in the New Year. Blake had a ridiculous hope that he might have his first ever New Years Kiss with Aiden tonight too. 

Yet as he bent down to pull his shoes out of his bedroom wardrobe a strong cramp gripped at his abdomen and he winced, rubbing his hand across the muscles in the hope that might relax them. He wasn’t about to admit defeat though, he’d manage – he had to. 

But he had to admit when he saw the drummer’s car pull up outside the flat, waiting to take him to the sound check; he wished he’d listened to Aiden earlier. His stomach now felt a little more upset than before, and his face was hot. He’d pecked Aiden on the cheek, however, and forced a grin onto his face. 

“I’ll see you later,” he said, then he paused. “Please don’t be mad. I’m looking forward to spending Hogmanay with you.” Aiden didn’t reply, so Blake picked up his case of music and left the flat. 

The drive to the venue had been torture, every bump and jostle made the rolling of his stomach worse. He had to muffle a few gentle belches into his curled fist while trying to tell Cal, the drummer, about the set without giving away how rough he felt. It wasn’t even that long a drive, but he was immensely thankful when they pulled into the car park and he was able to burst from the car, taking deep breaths of cold air. 

The hall was already set up, the round tables dotted about for guests to sit at and for food to be served onto, with a space in the centre large enough for dancing, and if necessary the tables could be moved further back. Some of the other band members had already arrived and were setting up on the raised platform at the far end of the hall.

“Hey Blake,” Aileen called, she was up on top of the platform and ensuring that the music stands were tightened properly. “Please tell me you’ve got the music sets worked out?”

“All sorted…” Blake held the case up slightly. 

“Good! Jenny had a bit of a panic that it might have been her turn to sort the set,” the platform reached Blake’s waist when he was right next to it and he opened the case onto it rather than having to bend down. He was beginning to regain some of his composure after the car journey as he shuffled through the music, laying it out into piles. He would be fine. Now he was here, it’d be all right. 

Their sound check went well – Aileen swapped from her acoustic to her electric violin as the space in the hall demanded a bigger sound than she’d anticipated. Blake was glad he’d asked for a chair up by the piano, as he wasn’t sure he’d be able to stand the whole night. And there was another thing he’d forgotten about – he was the caller. 

Normally this wouldn’t be a problem, he quite enjoyed explaining the dances so everyone knew what they were doing, and he liked shouting out the next step and watching the dancers scramble to get things right. But when both of his hands were on the keys, he couldn’t muffle the belches that periodically burst from him. He didn’t really want that to happen over the microphone – it would be embarrassing to say the least. Near the end of the sound check he made a final decision.

“I think someone else should be the caller tonight,” he cast the statement out casually, trying to make it sound like he wanted to give someone else a chance.

“What? Why?” Margaret asked, lowering her flute and looking at him confused.

“I just think someone else should tonight,” Blake said, then realising that wasn’t going to fly with these guys, he admitted: “I’m just not feeling like it right now, I’d prefer if someone else would do it.”

“I can do it, if that’s helpful,” Jenny offered after a moment silence.

“Thanks Jenny,” Blake nodded then went back to putting his music into order.

“What’s up?” Cal asked as he skirted round the edge of the piano now their sound check was done.

“Nothing,” Blake lied, although his stomach kept making strange flipping motions inside him. 

“Come on!” Cal didn’t sound convinced. “You not calling on Hogmanay? Something has to be up…”

“I’m just feeling a little under the weather, it’s nothing really,” Blake tried to play it down. 

“If you’re not feeling well you shouldn’t be playing!” Cal said, which was exactly what Blake hadn’t wanted to hear. “I can call Nathan to sub you if you’re not well.” Blake was shaking his head defiantly. 

“No!” He insisted, “I’ll be fine when people start arriving. It’s Hogmanay! Course I’ll be alright.” Cal didn’t look certain, but he didn’t ask further. “I’m going to ask the bar staff if we can have a crate of water up on the platform for while we’re playing.”

People started arriving relatively early; the bar had advertised gourmet canapés and snacks that would be available before and during the ceilidh. Blake sat up by the platform, a bottle of water clutched in his hand, trying to breathe in through his mouth as the smell of food was making his belly rebel even more. The lights were dimmed to a bluey purplish glow, which Blake was pretty thankful for because the last time he’d visited the bathroom he’d looked awful. He was watching the door, hoping for any sign of Aiden, Jack or Lindsey. What he was expecting from any of them he didn’t know, especially as Aiden was likely to tell him in no uncertain terms that he’d been right. If they weren’t here soon, they’d be playing and he’d have to wait until they had a break to see.

“Are you sure you’re up to playing?” Cal asked, sitting down next to him.

“Yes,” Blake sighed heavily. “Why does everyone keep asking me that?” The question sounded irritable, but he couldn’t stop that. 

“Maybe because you actually look ill?” Cal responded honestly. 

“I’ll be fine!” Blake repeated for what felt like the millionth time, but he was beginning to struggle to tell this lie convincingly. 

“Okay…” Cal raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. “We’re going to be starting the first set in about fifteen minutes, alright?”

The room was almost full now, and the crowd was a mixture of students, young professionals and tourists, all dressed up and seeming increasingly excited about bringing in the New Year. Blake couldn’t shake the foreboding sensation, and even worse the increasing churning in his stomach. He took another few big gulps of his water to try and settle himself.

Blake still hadn’t spotted Aiden, or the other two, and he was just sending a text to Aiden which read: ‘ _Please come, I need you to be here. Love you xx_ ’ as Cal tapped him on the shoulder. 

“It’s time for us to start,” Blake shoved his phone into his pocket and followed him up onto the platform; still tense in the hope that Aiden would turn up.

The room was heating up quick as the dancing began, the first dance a gentle Gay Gordons to ease people in before anything more adventurous. Blake hoped that the sweat dripping down his face and starting to make his hair curl was from the heat in the room. They’d just reached the Dashing White Sergeant when Blake saw the door at the other end of the hall open and three people entered; instantly he knew it was Aiden, Jack and Lindsey even though he couldn’t quite see that far away. He felt a lot more relaxed just because they were there. 

In between each song Blake had taken a big swig from the water bottles he’d tried up on the lid of his piano and so far that had been working on keeping the bubbling of his stomach under control. The room felt like it was getting warmer very quickly, Blake had already unbuttoned the two top buttons of his shirt in an attempt to cool down a bit, but he could still feel sweat running down the groove of his back. 

They’d just begun a jig when things began to go wrong. A strong cramp radiated through his abdomen and he couldn’t stop himself from gasping in pain, trying as hard as he could to keep playing in time and resisting the urge to double over. As it eased slightly Blake felt a cold shiver run down his spine and he felt a bit shaky. Looking out over the dancers he suddenly was struggling to bring things into focus, everything was a bit fuzzy and he couldn’t tell if it was his eyes or an effect of the lights. Then his stomach clenched and he felt the beginning of a heave travelling up his chest. He swallowed firmly, willing himself to be alright, even just to the end of this song and then he could make a dash to the toilets if he needed to. But it wasn’t enough.

His fingers faltered on the keys as he tried to suppress another gag, feeling liquid creeping up his throat. He picked up his place in the music almost instantly, but he was uncertain about how much longer he could hold on with the gurgling that he could feel in his stomach. He was sucking in great draws of air through his nose, his eyes streaming with the exertion and he was struggling to follow his staff properly. His stomach gave another sudden jerk and he pulled his hands away from the keys, his mouth had flooded with liquid and with the way his stomach was still convulsing he knew he had no chance of swallowing it back down. Clasping his hands across his mouth he turned quickly away from the piano, stumbling towards the side of the platform. He barely made it two steps before he fell to his knees, hoping beyond hope that the amplifiers at the front of the stage would hide him from view. He was gripping the edge and did the only thing he could, stuck his head over as his stomach squeezed again, forcing up a wave of very liquidy vomit which splashed down to the ground below. 

Blake panted, he’d hoped that once the initial wave was out of him he’d feel better, that maybe he’d just over hydrated, but if anything he felt worse. His arms were trembling severely, his head whirling unpleasantly, and he was pretty sure he was going to throw up again. He clung on tightly; he hadn’t noticed anyone rushing towards him, but was immensely comforted when he felt a hand on his shoulder, then Aiden’s voice in his ear.

“It’s okay Blake, you’re okay,” the familiar voice made Blake feel more secure, but he still felt awful. 

“Aide - _uuuuuuuuuurrrrr_!” Blake had tried to speak, but his word was interrupted by another heave which wracked his body and brought with it a further, larger wave of puke which splattered against the edge of the platform and joined the puddle on the ground. 

“I’m going to take you home,” Aiden said firmly. 

“No! I – _urp_ – need to…” Blake struggled to get the words out, aware that if he let his mouth stay open for long then he might be sick again. “Be fine, keep playing…” He raised his head and saw the concern on his boyfriend’s face and felt his internal determination crumbling. He felt so disgusting. Aiden reached out his palm and pressed it to Blake’s forehead, he tried to pull back, aware that he was sticky and sweaty and he didn’t like it. 

“You’ve got a temperature again,” Aiden said quietly, then looked straight into Blake’s eyes. “I _can’t_ let you keep playing, you’re not well… Let me take you home, please?”

Blake hadn’t noticed the music had come to an end, but then from behind him he heard:

“I think it’s time to call it a night Blake,” Cal said kindly. “You’ve done a great job so far, but you’re not well – so go home and get better.”

Blake wanted to argue, he wanted to protest and say he’d be fine once he got his stomach under control, he didn’t want to let anyone down; but right now he couldn’t think of anything better than being curled up on his sofa with his boyfriend looking after him. Even if it wasn’t the best omen for the New Year. Reluctantly he nodded.

“I need to go home.”

Aiden quickly gathered all of his and Blake’s belongings, Cal assured that he’d bring anything left behind him. One of the bar staff let Aiden and Blake out of a fire exit near the platform, Blake had been pretty certain that he wouldn’t make it through the dancing crowd. The cold night air hit Blake and he doubled over, retching again as Aiden supported him to keep him upright. The coolness was pleasant on Blake’s overheated skin, but they were barely a street away before he was shivering, his teeth chattering from the cold. 

“Maybe we should have got a taxi?” Aiden murmured, but Blake shook his head as he gripped tighter onto Aiden’s wrist. 

“Couldn’t risk – _hic_ – throwing up in a taxi,” he forced. “It’s only a short walk.” His hand shot up to his mouth again and he gave a weak gag; Aiden stopped as a precaution. “False alarm…” Blake mumbled, then started walking again. 

Blake couldn’t remember most of the journey home, he was too busy trying not to vomit on his own and Aiden’s shoes. So it was a bit of a surprise when he realised they were back at their flat, with Aiden fumbling to find his keys, and get them inside.

“ ‘M going to the toilet…” Blake mumbled as they got over the threshold. 

“I’ll get you some water and be with you in a moment,” Aiden cautiously allowed Blake to wobble into the bathroom by himself. 

Blake clutched at the side of the basin, turning on the cold tap before looking at himself in the mirror. He looked horrendous. His hair had retreated into a curly mass some of which was stuck to his face because of the sweat; his skin was a milk bottle shade of white but his eyes were bright with fever. He ran his hands under the cold tap and then splashed some water onto his face, as he did this his stomach heaved again and he panted raggedly over the sink, a dribble of spit dangling from his lips. He knew he wasn’t done yet. He wished it was over – that he was empty and didn’t feel so bad. Tears of frustration, exhaustion and illness leaked from his eyes and he didn’t bother to wipe them away. 

“Blake? Oh no,” Aiden had come into the bathroom behind him and, seeing he was crying, wrapped his arms around Blake’s shoulders and pulled him close into him. “Don’t cry! You’re okay I promise, come on.” Aiden began to steer Blake out of the bathroom, but Blake resisted. 

“No…” he mumbled, then gulped. “I’m not done, I’m gonna be sick again, I know it.” 

“It’s fine, I’ve got a bucket for you in case,” Aiden justified, coaxing him into the hallway and over to their living room. “You’re going to drink some water, take some meds and then try and relax… I’m going to look after you.” Aiden had led him into the room and made him sit down on the sofa. “Here, have some water,” Aiden raised a glass of water to Blake’s lips, but when he opened his mouth a loud, wet belch rolled up from his stomach. 

“Oh I’m sorry…” His hand went up to his face, and his eyes forced shut as he jerked forward with a heave. 

“Alright, here,” Aiden lifted the bucket up onto Blake’s lap and Blake buried his head into it; Aiden could hear the retching sounds reverberating in the bucket. He perched next to Blake on the sofa and began to rub his boyfriend’s back gently. He winced slightly as he heard a thick splattering sound of a round of vomit hit the bottom of the bucket; Blake raised his head, panting, but almost instantly was retching up another mouthful of sick. “Oh God Blake,” Aiden brushed some of Blake’s curls out of his face. “I promise you’ll feel better when you’re done.”

“I should’ve-” He broke off with an unproductive heave, then carried on, “listened to you earlier…” Blake admitted, his stomach was still aching, but it had changed from the nauseating flips it had been doing before. “You were right, sorry.”

“Shush, that doesn’t matter,” Aiden shook his head.

“I think I’m empty,” Blake said, pushing away the sick bucket.

“I’ll clean this out,” Aiden took the bucket to empty and rinse, then took it back just for emergencies. When he got back into the room Blake was lying out on the sofa.

“I felt like I needed to lie down,” Blake mumbled.

“That’s okay, raise up for a second,” he sat on the sofa and allowed Blake to put his head in his lap. He stroked Blake’s face gently and Blake closed his eyes lazily. “How are you feeling now?” He tried to keep his voice low.

“My stomach still aches…” Blake replied, both of his hands were rested into his abdomen. 

“Would it help,” Aiden slowly slipped his hand underneath Blake’s shirt and began to massage the flesh with his finger tips, “if I give you a belly rub?”

“Mmmm…” Blake seemed to relax into Aiden’s hand. “That’s really nice… I’m sorry Aiden, this isn’t exactly how I’d envisaged New Year for us…”

Aiden glanced at the clock, noticing that it was almost midnight now.

“I’m with you, and that’s what matters,” Aiden bent forwards and pressed a kiss to Blake’s forehead. It wasn’t quite the New Years Kiss Blake had been hoping for, but he’d settle for it. 


End file.
